Carbuncled Knuckles in the Hot Sun

by jane arie baldwin

Sun hot lava rocks cook your tough skin                                 How does it feel?

Lying there in your jaundice fat suit. Carbuncled knuckles knots on your head. Lips curved in a cheshire cat grin.

Sand rubs your belly as you hug the ground like a rock climber in horizontal ascent.

First left arm then right leg. Now right arm left leg. Zig zag as you scurry. Into gross hiding.

Sun hot lava rocks.

Cook your tough skin.

As you wait.

For the something of nothing.